


After the Fact

by caterpillargirl



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur's thoughts, Day 1 prompt: Prince and Servant, M/M, Merthur Party 2013, Pre-Slash, Team Purple, rating largely for hints of merthur, set during series 1 episode 1, the hints are very slight though, with hints of whats to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 17:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caterpillargirl/pseuds/caterpillargirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur can't sleep. Instead, he can't seem to let go of morning's events and, in particular, the words of a certain dark haired, blue-eyed, cocky peasant.</p><p>For the Merthur Party 2013 prompt "Prince and Servant"</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Fact

**Author's Note:**

> So I sort of stretched the prompt and went pre-servant for Merlin – I wanted to explore Arthur, the prince and the person, as he was before he met Merlin or when he met Merlin. I always believed that there had to be something in him that wasn’t just pure prat – something that made him the Once and Future King. The BBC show doesn’t stress the complexity of Arthur in the first episode, so I thought I’d take a stab at it. I hope it is true to the spirit of the prompt… 
> 
> On another note, this is my first fanfiction ever, and my first writing in more years than I’d like to admit. It’s very different than what I used to write, and canon era is so not easy for me. Any constructive advice/criticism/suggestions are welcome and very appreciated! 
> 
> Cheers.  
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_“Hey come on. That’s enough. You’ve had your fun, my friend.”_

The words kept running through Arthur’s head. That Merlin fellow who so blatantly disregarded his place, and who was currently sleeping in the dungeon — if he was sleeping — shouldn’t be worth a second thought. Yet here Arthur lay past midnight, feeling like a child who had thrown a tantrum at his best friend’s birthday party.

Arthur kicked the sheets off his legs, bending his knees to the left and then to the right. Neither was comfortable.

Okay, okay. Maybe he over-reacted by having Merlin arrested. Going by the sudden start in Merlin’s eyes and the quick moue of his lips at the time, he clearly hadn’t known that Arthur was the Prince until he was told. Arthur squared his shoulders on the pillow’s edge. But even if Merlin didn’t know he was speaking to a prince, a peasant shouldn’t use such a familiar tone with someone so clearly of higher status than he. To be so direct and openly rude… They weren’t equals and never would be.

Arthur stilled and his jaw tensed.

Merlin needed to learn his place, and a night spent in the dungeon might just help in that regard.

Arthur turned his head towards the window. Morris, his manservant, had forgotten to close it. Arthur could see the sky full of stars over the darkness of the sleeping town.

Then again, the more Arthur thought about it, the more he realized that the peasant did have a point — Arthur had taken his joke with Morris a little too far. He knew it at the time, but had easily pushed the thought away when the knights started to laugh. Morris was such a wet fish that Arthur sometimes taunted him just to test how much it would take before the servant would object. He had never gone so far he did this morning, however. Arthur felt uncomfortable and almost, possibly, guilty.

His sleep pants felt like they had twisted around his waist. Arthur tried to ignore them. Instead, he ran his tongue over the corner of his lips where he could feel a split starting, and scratched at it with his thumb.

Come to think of it, Morris had started to object just as Arthur threw the first knife at him. Perhaps, had he waited, Morris would have had a chance to say something. But Arthur hadn’t waited – he acted first. Not very princely, he admitted. And the stranger had called him on it – a peasant stranger. A tall, dark, young peasant, whose eyes danced with impertinence when he spoke. Now Arthur was lying awake with only a few hours left to the night while Merlin was sleeping on a cold, stone floor somewhere below him.

Arthur wondered if Merlin had been given a blanket, or if he was curled up on only a pile of hay. He was quite skinny, his body all angular and taut. The floor would leave bruises on his legs and hips.

Arthur had in fact been acting like an ass. Merlin was right. And now his first impression of Camelot would forever be Prince Arthur childishly lording himself over a servant, and then throwing Merlin in jail for justifiably defending the man.

He looked straight up at the red canopy of his bed for quite a long time.

Arthur decided to order Merlin’s release in the morning. He would. Yes. Although Merlin had taken liberties in how he spoke to Arthur, despite the possible truthfulness of his words. Perhaps some harmless public humiliation would be fitting. Arthur was, after all, the prince and the future king of Camelot. And Merlin was just a peasant, no matter how forward or daring or captivating he was.

Arthur would not give Merlin any more cause to doubt Arthur’s honor the next time they met. He would prove how just of a prince he really was. He would behave impeccably and stop those pink, smirking lips from insulting him again. He imagined Merlin’s quick intake of breath and the flush that would cover Merlin’s cheeks, and maybe even ears, with his realization of the true Arthur. Yes, Arthur would show Merlin that he was wrong about him.

Arthur turned onto his stomach and shoved his left arm under the pillow. He closed his eyes and felt his body grow heavy. As the sky started to lighten, he let himself go.


End file.
